Spring of Drowned Vampire
by Ranma Edward Maxwell
Summary: "Ryoga, go get some help! Find a doctor, something, anything! Hurry!" Warning: LEMONS!! *complete*
1. First Time Together

Hi, this is Edward... I like vampires, but I don't think they exist or ever did. But they are a real interesting creation so I decided that there were not enough Ranma Vampire fics and I would create one. Hope you enjoy it...  
  
Warning:  
  
Lemon; Angst  
  
Note: Ranma and Akane are 16 years old. I am sorry to all the people who have thought they were 14 years old. I hope this makes the fic less confusing.  
  
First Time Together  
  
Akane was asleep in her bed. It was around 2 a.m. in the morning and a full moon was shining in her room, illuminating her face. She had left her window open because the heat in the house was suffocating and the light breeze cooled her off. She almost looked dead and you would have suspected so if it weren't for the rising and falling of her chest.  
  
A dark figure can be seen lying on the roof right above Akane's room. The shadow moves to the edge of the roof and falls, but doesn't. He is hanging by his feet looking through Akane's open window. One would think he was a giant bat except for the braid silhouetted by the full moon. He enters through the conveniently open window and stands looking at his love's sleeping form. He licks his lips in need. 'What I would give for a single taste of her blood. The coppery taste of her essence on my lips and tongue. But if I did, she would despise me forever because of my selfish need and the eternity it would give her.'  
  
He moves closer to her and kneels by her bed gazing at her neck and face. 'The Tendous have started wondering why in the last two years, from fourteen to sixteen, I have not grown an inch or gained much weight. I haven't grown at all, but they don't need to know that. I will have to leave Nerima soon and go somewhere else to be fourteen again. I wonder if we are ever going to settle down and just relax. We are always on alert might any more of my kind come. Only a few have actually attempted to defeat me. Ryouga has never succeeded. He is so careless about who he is. Always showing his fangs off. Everyone thinks they are the effect of the Spring of Drowned Piglet, but I know better. Mine have only been visible a couple of times. But I was too fast to conceal them for anyone to notice. I hope... If I can only tell her who I really am and that I love her, but I shouldn't. That would only make it hard on the both of us when I must leave. She might also reject me and call me a 'blood-sucking freak'. I could bear anyone's reject, but her's right now.'  
  
Akane felt Ranma enter through the open window before she even woke up. She had become aware of Ranma's almost daily visits to her room around a month ago. She can only imagine how long he had been coming before she realized this. At that time, she was confused at first what he was going to do, but wanted to find out so didn't move or make any subtle signals she had awaken. He had stood by the window for a while gazing at her then moved beside the bed. After about five minutes and she was almost sleep again, she was awaken by a sob. Ranma had started crying beside her bed. She wanted to comfort him, but knew it would only drive him away. She knew from then on that he would not harm her. he kept coming, but never cried again. He usually would nuzzle his nose in her neck and gently breathe in her scent. Then his hand would go under the covers and softly touch her stomach. He was always soft like he was afraid to hurt or break her. He would sometimes touch her thighs, but only for a few seconds. He never touched her breasts or between her legs. He seemed to actually avoid them. Akane had developed a liking for these visits and always look forward. She had realized a while ago that she loved Ranma, but wasn't sure if he felt the same way. Afraid of rejection, she was afraid this would be the closest she could ever get to him.  
  
Ranma, thinking Akane was asleep, slowly leaned toward her neck. He would never get used to her fresh and inviting smell. This being the last week he was going to be at the Tendous he wanted to make lasting. 'I want her to know I love her, but how. I want to hold her in my arms and run my hands through her beautiful, blue hair. I want to know how she tastes and how she would feel underneath me. I want to know if she loves me the way I love her...' He slowly descends from her shoulder to her side. He can feel her muscular body under his hand. He notices a shiver pass through her body, but thinks nothing of it. 'Maybe she is cold.' He takes off his shoes and shirt. He slides into the covers with her before thinking of the consequences. He notices about now that she is not wearing a night shirt or pants. Only panties. She rolls over and snuggles up to Ranma. Ranma now realizes the peril, he can be in if she was to wake up with him in bed with her. But he looks at her face and the fear goes away. He is completely in love with her and wants to be with her. Even if all he does is lie with her sleeping form he would be happy.  
  
Akane can not believe Ranma is in her bed. She takes advantage of the situation and snuggles closer to his body. She can feel the heat radiating from his body onto her's. She gently lies her hand on his chest and can feel his heart beat. She is getting worked up over his closeness and her need to be with him. She wants to look at him, but wonders if he will be scared away by this action. She does it anyway.  
  
'Her eyes just opened.' Ranma freezes. He is waiting for the rejection to come from her soft lips.  
  
"Don't go, Ranma..." The sound of her name coming from her delicate mouth melted him. He gently kissed her on the forehead. Ranma closes his eyes while Akane combs her fingers through his hair, but his braid proves to be an obstacle. She slowly unties the braid and unravels his hair.* It falls onto the bed behind him. He opens his eyes when she stops moving. She is looking at him with some kind of new emotion in her eyes. He has seen it many times in his own eyes when he thinks of her, but doesn't believe it is the same emotion.  
  
Akane is overflowed with emotions as she unties and smoothes out Ranma's hair. Just the sensation of his hair between her fingers brings her almost to her limit. She has to breathe again. All the bottled up emotions she has for Ranma are coming to the surface in a tidal wave. Her face is flushed from the power of her love for him. She needs him to be with her forever. She leans toward Ranma. She doesn't mind that the covers are falling off her slim figure and exposing her breasts to Ranma's eyes. She didn't wear any pajamas for him in the first place.  
  
Ranma is surprised by Akane's willingness to be so close to him. He is getting hard from all the emotions flying around them in ciaos. He leans forward to meet her halfway in a short, but lingering kiss. They part and look at each other. Ranma notices the covers have dropped to Akane's waist and he can clearly see her breasts in the moonlight. He looks at her face with longing.  
  
Akane blushes under his eyes, but is enjoying it. She sees him wanting to be with her, but to afraid to act. 'I guess I will have to make the first move.' She takes his hand and kisses his palm. She hears a low moan escape his lips. She lowers his hand to rest on her breast. She takes her hand away to rest on his cheek.  
  
Ranma closes his eyes as a low moan escapes his mouth because of the fire shooting through his hand. They rapidly open from the soft flesh he can feel through his hand. 'Oh Akane...' She puts her hand on his face and closes her eyes. He moves closer to her and gently squeezes her breast. Akane suddenly gasps for air. Ranma rubs his thumb over her nipple and squeezes lightly again. This time a moan escapes Akane's lips. By now Ranma is in pain. Being so inexperienced with women, he is excited by everything. Especially Akane's body. He is as hard as a rock and will go over the edge soon, but wants to be with Akane most of all. He roughly puts an arm around her waist and presses her body to his. He kisses her with a passion that is growing by the moment. She responds with eagerness.  
  
Akane is surprised by Ranma's sudden move, but is responsive to his kiss. She can feel his manhood push against her stomach as they kiss. As they part for breath she unties his pants. Ranma takes them off to drop on the floor. Ranma's hands descend Akane's back and slowly lower her panties. Chills run up Akane's back at the sensation left behind from Ranma's touches. Ranma looks into Akane's eyes...  
  
"I love you..." he whispered to her angelic face. At these words, Akane burst into tears from the strain off all the emotions running through her body. Ranma is confused and wonders if she does not love him back.  
  
"I love you, too...." Akane whispers back. She feels like she has been waiting her whole life for Ranma to tell her these words. They join in a passionate kiss proving there love and need for one another.  
  
Ranma rolls Akane on her back and straddles her waist. Akane tugs at his boxers with eagerness. Ranma leans down on her and slips them off. He throws them to join the rest of their clothing. He gently rubs her left breast while tasting the other. Akane arches her back to press his mouth to her chest. Her nipples are erect under his touch and are too soon abandoned. Ranma moves to the valley between her breasts and lightly kisses her. A moan escapes Akane's lips which only encourages Ranma. He goes lower down to her stomach while leaving a trail of kisses in his wake. He reaches her essence and stops. A heady aroma is in the air. He brushes his nose in her hair which gets a squeal from Akane. He smiles at her. Her gently blows at her womanhood...  
  
"...Ra...Ranma...pppplease.... ahhhh..." Ranma gets closer and lightly licks the hot, sensitive area of Akane. She can not take it anymore. She grabs his face and bring it up to her's. She kisses him deeply and grabs a hold of his manhood. She brings it to her entrance and push his back down. He enters her to the hilt. She screams from the pain, but it is muffled by Ranma's lips and tongue. He stays still and waits for the pain to leave her face.  
  
"Are you ok now?" he asks with concern in his voice. She nods and asks him...  
  
"Is this your first time?" She waited him to be her first time, but never thought if he was a virgin or not.  
  
"Yes," he replies and she says, "Me too. I love you, Ranma..."  
  
"I love you too Akane and I will always love you no matter where I am." Ranma starts rocking before Akane can ask what he means. He starts at a steady pace, but as his climax gets closer he gets faster not wanting this to need. 'Just if I could die now, I would die a happy man. This must be heaven.  
  
"RANMA..." Akane screams as her body shakes with her first orgasm and Ranma is pulled over the edge by her inner muscles and her voice. After a few seconds, he collapses beside her. She is still shaking and he leans over and sees she is crying. He cuddles against her back and shushes her to a restful sleep. He himself doesn't find comfort in sleep or sleep doesn't find comfort in him. He takes a last look at Akane before getting up and putting on his boxers and pants. He walks over and gently kisses her forehead. He pulls the covers to her shoulders and picks up his shirt and shoes then leaps out the window.  
  
  
  
Dawn is approaching and Ranma heads for the butcher shop....  
  
To be continued......  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Note: * I know his hair grows extremely fast and wild without the Shenlong (I think that is the name) ribbon in his hair, but work with me here people... 


	2. Betrayal & Confusion

A night breeze flows through an open window, disturbing the sleeping figure on the bed. The scent of cherry blossoms fills the room, carried on the air currents. The figure slowly opens her eyes and notices with a jolt the emptiness of the bed, the indentation on the pillow next to hers. A look of confusion crosses her face. She looks around futilely as if searching for something and then sits up with a wounded expression darkening her pale features. Softly crying into her hands, she whispers two words.  
  
"Ranma.... why?"  
  
Akane looks toward the open window, curtains twitching in the gusts, and her face seems to be undecided as to which emotion to show—anger or rejection. 'He left me,' the young woman wailed inside her mind, confused and betrayed as she recalled the gentle lovemaking experience they had shared only hours before. Feeling on the whole quite dejected, she flops back onto the bed, turning her face into her pillow to stifle the tears running down her burning cheeks. "He left me," she sobs aloud, quietly, wondering what could be so offensive about her that he felt the need to abandon her like this.  
  
Deciding that she must have been a revolting bed partner and that he had only made love to her in sympathy, she cries herself to sleep, clutching the pillow that smells strongly of her lover.  
  
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Roughly five hours later, Akane twists under the sheets, stretching and blinking in the daylight. Something… something is missing from the picture, she decides, but cannot put her finger on what it could be. Rubbing the sleep-salt from the corners of her eyes, the young martial- artist sits up stiffly and swings her legs over the edge of the bed. Mind still groggy from slumber, she pauses there for a moment, making a vain attempt at remembering something… something important… She scrubs her face, stands up.  
  
Her feet fall on something silky, thrown casually onto the floor. Looking down, several things occur inside poor Akane's brain at once:  
  
1. She realizes that Ranma left his hair-ribbon lying there near her panties.  
  
2. She realizes that her panties are lying on the floor.  
  
3. She realizes that she is quite naked without her panties.  
  
4. She realizes that she must have had sex last night.  
  
5. She remembers the sex… Mmmmm…  
  
6. She realizes that this makes her no longer a virgin.  
  
7. She realizes that Ranma snuck out sometime during the night.  
  
8. She realizes one of two things must have happened: either she was an awful lover, and he only slept with her out of pity, or he took advantage of her and left because he didn't care.  
  
9. She realizes that this pisses her off.  
  
Hearing noises on the first floor, Akane looks at her door. 'What if he is downstairs?' she thinks, a rush of fear overwhelming her like a trapped rabbit. 'What will I say to him?' Her mind reels from the deluge of emotions 'NOTHING! HE is the one that left me! That bastard came in here, used me for some cheap thrill and then left through the—through the damn window!' She has decided that being pissed off is the best way to handle things, as it is a sight deal better than feeling morose and heartbroken.  
  
Akane gets her gi—a nice workout later would help cool her off—and heads down to breakfast, expecting to see the whole family around the table eating breakfast and arguing. She steels herself for an encounter with the asshole that deserted her. A slight twinge stabs at her heart with this thought, but she stifles it with logical self-righteousness and rejection—'He never really loved me! That bastard was only using me.'  
  
Ranma is there sure enough, inhaling his morning bowl of rice as if nothing had happened, although his hair looks decidedly odd since it has fallen loose around his ears. 'Jerk,' thinks Akane, gripping the Shenlong ribbon between her fingers as she sits down across from him. 'Where is everyone?' She is curious as to the absence of the rest of her family, but doesn't feel in the mood to have any kind of conversation with the jerkoff sitting across from her. She considers the problem of locating of her family, and then remembers the reunion she had begged out of going to, saying she'd been sick. She hadn't been, not really, but she'd wanted the dojo—and the house—to herself for a while. 'So much for that idea.' Ranma continues to wolf his breakfast, barely giving her a casual glance.  
  
'Well, I can play his game just as good as he can,' she decides, and picks up the large bowl of re-heated leftover rice from the middle of the table. She serves herself a bowlful, pours some steaming tea, and lifts her chopsticks to begin eating. The silence stretches, broken only by the noises of eating and drinking, and the occasional hidden glance. 'At least, I don't have to worry about everyone else to witness the way this bastard is treating me,' Akane thought, feeling the sharp jab of humiliation. She continued eating.  
  
'Is it just me,' Akane wonders, 'or is he actually nervous about something?' She notices his taut muscles and the stiff way he handles his utensils. 'What could possibly be worrying him?' Several times, Ranma look up at her as though he wants to ask her something important, but each time he cowards out of it with a fidget or a sigh.  
  
"Ranma..." Akane begins awkwardly, her voice breaking the oppressive silence like a hammer against glass. Reining in her anger to give the bastard the benefit of the doubt, Akane searches for her voice. She wants to question him about why he hurt her by leaving the night before, but doesn't know quite how to word it. The end result comes out shakier than she would have liked. "Ranma, why...why did you leave me?"  
  
Ranma stops his chopsticks midway to his mouth and stares at them. He seems to be thinking over an answer or just hoping she will forget she even asked. Since the latter isn't looking too likely, he comes up with an answer. Quietly, while looking at his hands, Ranma mumbles, "I couldn't stay. I didn't have the control to stay near you..."  
  
Akane's already stressed emotions take her a few steps further away from rationality and logical reasoning, but she doesn't seem to notice in the frenzied rush of anger and self-hatred. 'Control....? What is Ranma talking about? Is there something wrong with me? He is really implying he couldn't stand to stay in the same bed as me?' Akane's face starts turning red and her eyes fill with repressed tears.  
  
She abruptly stands up, her thin figure looming over Ranma. "Are you saying I am too disgusting to stay with?!? I can't believe—how could you possibly think that? You said you love me, supposedly,", her voice starts breaking, "but then you leave without a word, right through the damn window!"  
  
She grabs her ever-present, handy-dandy, really-angry-time-to-crush-Ranma mallet from thin air behind her back and knocks Ranma right through the damn door and into the pond, his black hair whisping in unruly tangles around him. "Let me explai—" he cries, but his voice bubbles and gurgles under the water, and the rest of the now-female-Ranma's plea is lost on the now-fuming Akane.  
  
Akane runs toward the bathroom, rice and tea forgotten on the dining table. Without much success, she tries to hide her tears, which to her are a sign of weakness. She feels so pathetic, so disgusting! 'He never really loved me… I knew it was too good to be true!'  
  
Inside the sanctuary of the bathroom, she strips her gi off, repeating, '.... used me.... he used me ....' Like Lady MacBeth in the fifth act, Akane takes out a wash rag and begins scrubbing feverishly at her skin. The only thing Akane can think of is getting herself clean, getting the 'dirt' off her body—Getting Ranma's touches off her skin and mind. "Bastard…" She fills the wooden bucket up with cold water and pours it over her naked body, sending shivers up and down her hide.  
  
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Meanwhile… Ranma-chan jumps out of the pond ready with a standard retort, but Akane is no longer there. 'That stupid tomboy...' Ranma-chan, sinking onto a large rock, slumps her shoulders and lowers her head with a helpless sigh. "I love her," she says aloud, miserably, to the empty garden. "I always have and always will, but sometimes I think I will never understand her." Ranma-chan wrings out her unbound red hair, letting the large wet drops fall sullenly to drip down the sides of the stone.  
  
'And now that I have to leave soon, she hates me,' she thinks dejectedly. 'I didn't mean to hurt her! And I don't think she is disgusting. If anything, I am the disgusting one. Couldn't even make it one night in a bed alone with her without wanting her for her blood.' She hops down, wishing she could punch something. 'I can't believe I ever thought she could love the real me. It's true—I am a monster—I can only bring pain to those I know.' WHAM! The force of the blow dealt by the young redhead sends an inch-wide crack along the circumference of the stone. Feeling marginally better, she gets up and heads toward the bathroom to change back.  
  
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Once inside the changing room entrance to the bathroom, Ranma-chan hears sounds within and leans closer to the sliding door. She hears Akane inside sobbing over the noise of running water, incoherently mumbling to herself. She leans in closer to the screen between them and makes out a few of the words. "...used me... why? The jerk used me and left me…"  
  
'No, no,' Ranma-chan frowns. 'That's not right—She thinks I've used her. No... no... that could not be further from the truth!' She leans her forehead against the wooden frame. 'How can I possibly ever get her to see why I can't stay near her? I want her blood so badly—but no. If I give in, she'll hate me for the eternity it would give her. If I tell her, she'd be terrified of me. Damned if I do, damned if I don't. Well, I have to do something here….'  
  
Ranma-chan slides back the panel to see Akane on a stool rubbing her skin with a sponge (the washcloth, with a few more holes, is a pinkish heap on the tiled floor.) Her chest is bleeding from her trying to rub and scratch her imagined 'dirt' off. Ranma-chan is frozen to the ground by the sight of blood and has to restrain herself from becoming the monster that she herself hates. She can see blood under the other girl's fingernails and that the once-porcelain skin before her is red and blotchy.  
  
Akane's eyes, glazed with fury and humiliation, have not yet strayed to the entrance, where another young woman is stealthily approaching, moving fluidly across the tile. 'Just a little closer,' Ranma-chan realizes, wet hair dangling before predatory eyes. 'I know I shouldn't. I can't. I can't do this to Akane…' But unable to dampen the carnivorous instincts deep within her psyche, she moves forward, inch by inch. 'It's the blood that's doing it,' cries the rational part of her brain, 'don't think about the blood—focus on something else!'  
  
And so she forces her eyes to trespass into other forbidden areas in a desperate attempt at moving from one hunger to another. 'Help her, just help her, and you can make it through this alive—and so can she.' Ranma- chan certainly hoped that voice within her head knew what it was talking about.  
  
"Why am I so disgusting to you? Is it my body?" Akane demanded of the bathroom floor, pausing in her scrubbing to clutch the sponge with white knuckles until watered-down blood trickled down the drain. In her other hand, she gripped the edge of the stool and her fingernails dug into the wood. 'Am I really that…that… uncute to you? That's what you've always said, anyway. I was stupid to think any of it could have changed. Stupid to believe your lies. Tell me why you lied to me, you jerk.' Now she wrings the thing to death with both hands, tears streaming down her face—tears of lost love and heartache despite the angry words. Then, softly, more quietly, more bitterly, 'Anyway, who would love an uncute tomboy when you have cuter fiancées?"  
  
"That's not true and you know it!" Ranma-chan points out in what she hopes is a sane-sounding voice.  
  
Akane leaps up, whirling about to face the voice's source in a fighter's crouch. When she sees who it is and registers her words, Akane shakes for a moment and then crumples to the floor on her knees in a fit of confusion, relief and distrust. A new wave of tears overtakes her, and her face becomes a storm of emotions.  
  
"I don't think you are disgusting or ugly. You are the most beautiful girl I know." Ranma-chan—jerkily, restrained—slowly approaches Akane and kneels beside her. It takes all her vampire's will-power to not notice the red welts rising up or the fact that she knelt in a pool of bloody water, or the very nearness and the very vulnerable state of the human before her. 'It's Akane, it's Akane—you love her, you love Akane,' was the running thought in her consciousness. With her hand, she lifts Akane's chin to look at her. "I didn't lie last night." The next comes harder, and so with more force. "I would never do anything to harm you. You are all I have to live for...." Both girls gaze at each other and wonder, not for the first time, what the other is thinking.  
  
'I think it's dangerous how much I want to believe this man—it could get me into trouble some day, to be so trusting, but…" Akane turns to face him—no, she realizes belatedly, *her*. It is Ranma-chan who kneels dripping pond water before her, not the handsome teenage boy she had given her virginity to the previous night. The thought of how he must have used her makes Akane shudder with self- revulsion. 'He has to hate me,' she decides.  
  
"Why should I believe you?" she demands, further disgusted with herself at the way her voice breaks into a sob. She controls it with her anger and continues, "What proof do you have…of, of your love? You could just be lying for all I know." Akane can feel that her eyes are puffy and red from her tears, and she looks away, her short, black hair curling in wet tendrils down the nape of her neck.  
  
The buxom redhead inches closer. "Akane, think this through—why would I lie to you? I..." She looks down, for the next words had not come easily last night, and they are not much easier now. "I—I love you."  
  
With that simple proclamation, Akane's heart swells, and while a small, dark part of her refuses to believe it, her hard resolve melts and she wilts into the other woman's kneeling embrace with more sobs.  
  
"I just wanted to hear you say that so much all this time that (sniffle) when it actually happened, (sob) I couldn't believe it!" the young martial artist looks up through tear-blurred eyes into the face of her betrothed, and now, she realizes, her beloved. "I just, that is, I didn't mean any of those things I said, any of it. None of those times, really." The memories of past arguments threaten to push Akane over the brink of sobbing hysteria again, but Ranma-chan sees it written in her expression and forestalls the flood the only way she can think of—  
  
The kiss catches Akane by surprise, as she sits there naked on the cold tiles, bleeding from self-inflicted wounds in the arms of another woman. It is an open-mouthed affair that lasts for ages, and by the time they come up for air, Akane decides it is sweeter than any candy or chocolate she's ever tasted, sweeter than any other kiss she's ever shared with any other person, and by far sweeter than anything they had shared the night before. They pull away, studying each other for a long moment until Akane just has to say something or burst from the pressure.  
  
"You smell like the bottom of a pond," she blurts. And then, to her complete horror, Akane feels herself begin to giggle girlishly.  
  
"Aw, girls," groans the redhead appreciatively, rolling her eyes. "And whose fault is that, anyway, my uncute little tomboy?" Placing a finger over Akane's lips to stop the inevitable indignant gasp, Ranma-chan gathers her fiancé up into her arms and walks over to the steaming bath Akane had begun drawing up earlier in her frenzy to get clean. Placing her beloved gently at the ledge, the bare-breasted goddess plunges into the tips of her fiery red locks and emerges the well-muscled teenage boy with glistening dark hair, and an even darker past.  
  
Akane, seated on the tiled edge of the bath, blushes, becoming acutely aware of their nudity.  
  
Ranma, who has been fighting the demons of his true nature since he first laid eyes on Akane, is finding it increasingly harder to deny the vampire's bloodlust. Seeing her face flush the deep pink, he is torn between his very honest love for her and his very carnal desire for that which flows through her veins. 'This is Akane,' the mantra repeats itself again through his mind, despairingly. 'This is who you love, this is Akane…this is the girl… this is a girl… this is a vulnerable girl…'  
  
"No, no," he mutters under his breath, resisting the dangerous predatory force and instead submitting to a desire that is much easier to control, the same thing every teenage boy's body desires.  
  
"What did you say?" Akane asks, slightly puzzled, shivering despite herself, unsure if it is because of the cold or the sight of Ranma's obvious arousal.  
  
"Nothing, Akane, it's nothing." Ranma moves to help her slide into the steaming bathwater, kissing her hand. She submerges herself up to her knees, but then hisses from the contact of the hot temperature on the self- inflicted abrasive wound. "Oh, Kami," says Ranma, when he sees it is bleeding slightly.  
  
He cannot restrain himself—just one taste; after all those countless nights of tasteless pig's blood from the butcher's, cold and lifeless... just one taste of something so alive and warm... it couldn't hurt—he bends down to her knee and kisses it lightly, allowing a few drops of the crimson liquid to pass to his tongue. He shudders with delight at this indulgence and at the same time self-disgust at his unquenchable monstrous need. She tastes *so* good... so, so good…  
  
No. No! "NO!" Ranma cries out, thrusting himself away from her, even as every nerve and muscle in his immortal body practically shrieks for him to do just the opposite, to stay with her, to....feed. He could make it pleasurable for her, he knew. He had before, in the past. The previous night had been a clumsy performance, worthy of a clueless virgin, but he had far more experience than he cared to admit. Oh, yes, he could make it pleasurable for her. "NO, NO. This is Akane! This is my Akane! I'm not going to be like this with her, NEVER!"  
  
Aware on some level that his fangs must be horribly visible to her, Ranma leaps from the bath, sloshing water everywhere, and gathers up some of his clothes, and bolts out the door before he can turn back for Akane, who is still seated half in the water, bewildered (why did he take the washrag?) and on the verge of tears again. One thought is running foremost through the vampire's mind, the thought of *blood*... Somewhere, somehow, he will have blood, and he will have it soon. Of that, he is certain. 


	3. All Alone

This is the little note my co-writer wrote to me. Nice isn't it?  
  
Ok, translating my thought processes into present tense is driving me absolutely nuts, and I swear if I don't change it to normal past tense, I'm gonna go postal and smash the keyboard through my monitor….  
  
We don't want that to happen, now do we? So, It's gonna be past tense from here on out, unless I feel that I need to mess with the literary feel or rhythm of the story……… and whatever I choose, you're gonna LIKE it.  
  
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Akane didn't see Ranma for the rest of the morning, or the afternoon, or even that evening. As she waited through the long hours of the night for him, worrying her way through cups upon cups of tea, she tried to figure out exactly what had occurred in the bathroom.  
  
She stopped her nervous pacing and set down her cup of lukewarm tea, curling her bathrobe around her body as she kneeled in the family room by the TV. It was too quiet with everyone having already gone to bed. Feeling that she needed background noise to concentrate, she flicked the television on, and then changed the channel to the news.  
  
She thought the entire event through her mind again for the millionth time. 'He didn't start acting weird until I started getting into the water with him… Could it be he was just nervous? Freaked out?' She shook her head, remembering the way his body had immediately responded to the sight of her naked. 'Well, at least I know I don't disgust him.' That was a great relief for her on some level, but her concern for his present state of mind overshadowed any joy that small detail gave her.  
  
Akane ran her tongue over her teeth. 'No, it really started when he saw my cuts…" She looked down at the various blotchy places where she had foolishly attempted to rub herself raw. 'When he kissed my cuts.' It was all connected to her cuts, she was sure of it.  
  
She groaned aloud, frustrated because she knew something more was going on behind this, but unable to see it as usual. Resting her chin on her drawn up knees, Akane poured herself another cup of tea simply for its comforting warmth.  
  
There was something else bothering her, too. His teeth were so long on the canines. She'd felt it in their passionate kiss, when they'd both been women, and she'd seen them when he'd bent down to kiss her again on her knee. 'Come to think of it,' she realized, 'I even felt them. Isn't that rare for people's teeth to get that long?'  
  
Akane shuddered, trying hard to not remember how he had not only kissed her there, but actually had… *licked* her… That was not natural. She had very little experience with boys, but any idiot could tell that was not a normal thing to do, not even in the weirdest history of foreplay. 'He licked up… he acted like he wanted to taste my… my….' She couldn't even think it.  
  
"...blood was stolen today from the local Nerima Blood Donors' Clinic," said the TV news announcer, interrupting Akane's train of thought. "Police reports say that 20 pints of several different types of blood were taken during the break-in, which occurred early this morning before the clinic had actually opened. Yoshio Kushida has more on the story."  
  
As Akane watched, open-mouthed, the news went on to report that none had been injured, and that the culprit had been described as a tall teenage boy with a black braid in Chinese clothing, who had not even bothered to disguise his appearance for cameras.  
  
"He was a fighter, definitely. Martial artist, I'd say," the wide-eyed clerk told the reporter. "Just started banging on the doors, and when I told him we weren't open yet, he broke through the glass and held me off me feet—just over there—against the wall, until I showed him where we store the blood. Seemed in a hurry, and his eyes—they just looked crazy. He asked for the freshest donations we had, took about 20 pints of it all, and left the way he'd come through. I was really scared, even though he didn't hurt me at all."  
  
The cup slipped from Akane's hands, spilling the warm liquid and shattering it into hundreds of porcelain shards as she continued to stare blankly at the screen.  
  
"He wanted to taste my…blood." This time, the tears that welled up in her eyes were tears of fear –fear of the physical kind, and fear of ending up alone; they were tears of a young girl who feels she has lost the first love of her life.  
  
"He wanted to taste my blood." And she cried.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Scarcely twenty feet away, a dark figure sits huddled, listening to his beloved weep. Bringing his knees under his chin into much the same position as the object of his thoughts, he remains concealed on the roof of the Tendo household… quietly staring up into the cold, distant, lifeless stars as he yearns for a way to end the ache in his body, and the ache in his heart.  
  
  
  
OOC: Wasn't that just the best part ever. My co-writer is wonderful.  
  
Right now I am just proof reading everything she does, but I might eventually get back into the story when my writer's block goes away or I stop being lazy.  
  
Whichever comes first. ^_^ 


	4. More Than Anything

A young girl in a white blouse and blue dress made her way down the dark alleyways of Nerima, striding purposefully and determinedly, as though she didn't want her fear to show. In her hands, she clutched a small bundle as though it held within its paper folds her only reason for living.  
  
"Wait," a voice called from above, and a shadowy form dropped down from a rooftop to land, light and silent as a feather before her in the halloed orange light of a street lamp. The girl started, immediately sliding into a fighter's crouch. "No, stop—Akane, it's me," the silhouette said.  
  
The girl didn't budge, but there was a hesitation in her eyes that gave him courage enough to speak.  
  
"Akane, I didn't mean… Aw, geeze. I—I still love you, you know that, right?" He looked down at the pavement, slipping his hands into his pockets. "I always have, really. Please believe me."  
  
"Are you going to attack me or something?" She tucked her precious package under her arm, hating the way her voice wavered and betrayed her weakness.  
  
"No." There was a quiet finality behind the word, exposing some fresh soul- wound and she found it hard to doubt what he said. "Akane--"  
  
"Have you ever killed anyone, Ramna?" she blurted, surprised by her own bitterness, feeling a twinge of guilt as she saw how deep her words had cut into the wincing figure in front of her.  
  
It was a long time before he could bring himself to answer her, and the noise of the streets stretched between them. In the distance, a dog barked and American jazz music poured quietly from an open window above.  
  
"Yes." He looked up, gauging her reaction with some fear. More than anything, he wanted to tell her no, never. More than anything, he wanted to tell her everything would be all right. More than anything…. He wanted to sweep that girl off her feet and kiss that sweet face he had called "uncute" so many times…  
  
"Would you ever--" her voice cracked—"would you ever kill me?" she asked, her eyes misting over almost against their will. She wiped the liquid hastily away, sniffing and drawing herself up.  
  
Ranma suddenly didn't look quite as strong as he had before, and his usual arrogant air seemed to fall away like a discarded cloak. His expression, usually handsome in its confidence, crumpled now, and he seemed to loose all tension in his legs.  
  
Without thinking, Akane rushed forward to support the limp body of her lover, his dark form highlighted by the orange street lamp.  
  
She somehow managed to prop him up against the brick wall of the building under the lamp, and he hunched forward, horrified lost look come across his face.  
  
"That's what I'm afraid of, Akane," he croaked, and he leaned his head forward into his hands. Startled to hear the young man cry for the first time in her life, Akane set her package down beside him and wondered desperately how to react. This was Ranma. Ramna didn't cry! "I'm so afraid," he said through his hands and muffled sobs, "I used to keep my distance because of it, but then you, and me, and—I don't think I can trust myself with you."  
  
There was so much torment in his voice that Akane's fears melted into her love for him and her sympathy for his situation, however bizarre and frightening it seemed to herself.  
  
She reached out, tentatively resting a hand on his shoulder in a clumsy attempt at a compassionate gesture. He jerked away suddenly, and looked up into her face.  
  
"You have to go. You can't stay near me—Kami, you know I love you, but that's just it! I love you more than anything, and I won't let anyone hurt you—not even myself."  
  
Akane backed away, horrified to see the tear-like streaks of dark red blood streaming down her lover's face from the corners of his eyes, dripping to pool all over his hands. That was a face she had seen daily for years, a face she had known and kissed in passion several times in the last few days. Those were hands that had held her, hands that had caressed her secret and innermost parts. And now they were smeared in crimson. Terrified by this apparition of death before her, Akane stumbled over her package in her haste to move away, ripping the paper open to reveal a small glass bottle.  
  
The thing rolled forward, first one way and then another, clinking loudly on the pavement before it came to a rest before the destitute vampire. Almost in spite of himself, Ranma leaned forward to read the scrawled, cramped handwriting of Dr. Tofu on the piece of paper wrapped around it:  
  
---Extract of Nightshade---  
  
1 USE WITH EXTREME CAUTION  
  
To be taken 2 drops a day or at the  
  
onset of symptoms. Effects will wear  
  
off after 24 hours, leaving patient  
  
exhausted. Overdose will lead to a  
  
worsening of symptoms.  
  
Keep out of reach of humans.  
  
Frowning and caught off guard by the absurdity of the label, Ranma turned his tear-streaked face towards Akane with a question on his lips.  
  
Still unnerved by his appearance, Akane explained. "It's from Dr. Tofu. After I found out… I had a lot of time to think, and…" She looked down. "I still love you, there's no way around that. I thought maybe there was a way somehow to reverse it, to help you… I didn't know who to go to, and I couldn't find you, so I went to Dr. Tofu." She smiled weakly. "Apparently, the problem is a little more common than I thought." Seeing he was still confused, she continued with difficulty, "it's poison to humans, but to—to vampires, well… it'll to help with the… you know… the hunger."  
  
Seeing the look in his eyes, she suddenly didn't care any more about blood or monsters or any other idiosyncrasies her beloved could ever surprise her with—Akane knew now she loved him more than anything. She came close again, kneeling, and used a corner of her skirt to wipe the inhuman tears from his face and hands before it dried in the chill nighttime air.  
  
"Akane, you don't know how much this means to…" Ranma trailed off as the young girl covered his hands, still clutching the bottle to his chest, with her own. Somewhere overhead jazz music tumbled softly into the Nerima night, and an orange street lamp cast a halo of radiance over a young girl kissing a shadowy form in a dark alleyway. 


	5. Almost Human

Warning: Sexual situations ahead! ^_^ 'YAY!!'  
  
Early morning sunlight filtered through an open window in the Tendo household to fall on two silent forms, intertwined beneath white cotton sheets. A few songbirds whistled from the window, and one of the forms stirred.  
  
Ranma quietly and carefully propped his head up onto his elbow, watching his beautiful black-haired girl sleep and recalling with arousal the night before. The sunlight, dappled by trees outside, shone on her dark locks and moved as her chest rose and fell. 'She's so peaceful when she's asleep,' he mused, 'but I think I love her both ways.'  
  
The only thing souring this moment was the thought that he had to leave. He must leave Nerima, and soon, or people would take notice. He wasn't completely immortal, after all. Memories of angry lynch mobs threatening with wooden stakes floated before his eyes, but he forced them away by breathing in Akane's musky, feminine scent. 'Kami,' he thought, she is sexy.  
  
Overwhelmed by desire for her body, love for her soul, and a need to protect them both, Ranma resolved to leave before things got any deeper. Maybe she would understand. She turned in her sleep suddenly, and the sheets pulled tighter across her body to reveal her small but perfectly shaped breasts. 'I have to stop this,' Ranma thought desperately as he felt his body respond to the loveliness lying prone before him.  
  
"Akane," he said, too loudly. She roused with a small start and then a stretch, smiling when her sleep-dosed eyes focused on him. Curling her hands up and around his neck, she pulled him down to the pillow for a kiss. He submitted readily enough to her passions, feeling himself harden even more, but after she pulled away, he shook his head.  
  
"I must go if I want to live, Akane. If I stay, I will die."  
  
Startled by his reaction, Akane leaned back, frowning.  
  
"What do you mean? But now we finally have each other. There's the Nightshade to help you keep your human side, and— well…"  
  
"You don't understand. Being—what I am—isn't just having a hunger for blood… I don't age. I haven't grown an inch since I moved here. My body's chronological clock is just sort of stuck in my teenage years for as long as I live." He looked down, as much as one could when lying down.  
  
"Just how old are you, Ranma?" she asked him, surprised that she hadn't foreseen that complication.  
  
"I am actually not as old as you might think, but I'll look adolescent forever."  
  
She nodded, realization slowly dawning. "So that's why you and your dad never stay in one place for more than a little while. They'd notice you hadn't changed at all, and then…"  
  
"Yes. And then they get angry. I can't say I really blame 'em. The first few months it was really horrible. I didn't know how to control myself at all, and times were tough. It's a good thing panda blood isn't very appealing to vampire instincts, or you'd have two monsters in the family, not just one." He shook his head, his eyes off in the distance.  
  
"Oh, no. No, Ranma, I couldn't think of you as a monster," Akane said, moving embrace him, her breasts pressing close against his chest, re- enforcing his body's earlier arousal. He shuddered slightly as she kissed him on the lips, then on his cheek, then down his neck and across his chest, pulling the sheets back as she went.  
  
A groan escaped his lips as her kisses moved closer and closer to his stiff manhood, which was fully erect. "Oh, Akane…"  
  
Her hands caressed his chest even as her kisses moved lower and lower. The intensity of the heat building inside him increased when she paused above his rigid shaft, her milky white fingers lingering at its base. Then, with a smile, she took the rod in her hands and lowered her lips to place the gentlest of all kisses on the throbbing tip.  
  
She kissed him there again, longer, making him squirm with savory desire. Ranma's gasp of surprise became another groan as she took him into her warm, wet mouth. Some very small part of his brain noted that from this angle he could see straight down her cleavage where the sheets still pulled tightly across them. An even smaller part noticed the dappled morning sunlight on her face, enjoying the way it played across her ivory curves.  
  
For the most part, however, his mind was almost catatonic with pleasure as her lips moved up and down his manhood, teasing him with her tongue and probably enjoying the complete control she held over him. Ranma wanted her body more than anything at that moment—wanted her so badly—so, so badly… He felt the telltale shudders begin, and, reining in his passions with an effort, pulled out of her deliciously warm mouth.  
  
A predatory grin spread across his face, he moved onto his hands and knees and advanced on the kneeling Akane, who seemed turned on though a little afraid (which, he was slightly ashamed to admit, turned him on even more.)  
  
Having been seduced more than once in his female form, Ranma knew better than any other man alive where to touch, where to kiss, to turn his lover's desire into a raging flame. Fully conscious of his still throbbing shaft, he pressed her gently back onto the bed with an open-mouthed kiss (fully glad he hadn't decided to cum inside her mouth) and moved lower as she had. Massaging her breasts gently, oh-so tenderly, he let his lips travel down her soft feminine curves, smiling up to reassure her as he heard her whimper and moan. Then he dove into her sex, which was as warm and wet as he had yet seen it, enjoying the way she involuntarily arched her back when his tongue curled around her center of pleasure, her clit.  
  
After a few moments of this, when he felt her body begin to tremble as his had, he moved away. Panting in a way that couldn't help but be sexy, the flush-faced black-haired girl grinned up at her lover, and he returned it, rapaciously. Looking down at her, he realized that part of his desire for her was tied up in his desire for her blood. Her flushed cheeks did as much for his painfully rigid member as the sight of her beautiful body lying prone, horny, bare-chested, and vulnerable to advances. His vampire instincts weren't the intense imperative they once were, probably thanks to the nightshade he had eagerly accepted the night before. Yes, he wanted to bite her and imbibe her precious liquid, but the wonder of the thing was that he didn't need to, and that freedom felt wonderful. As he moved towards his lover, who opened her legs wider for him, Ranma felt almost human again.  
  
By now, he was so horny he wasn't sure he could keep himself from cumming the second he entered her, so he went slowly, by pressing the head of his cock against her entrance and sliding it in inch by inch.  
  
"Oh, Ranma, oh, that feels so… so good…" Akane arched her back again, rising to meet him with an expression of pleasure painted across her beautiful features as he savored the feel of her warm, wet crevasse. He pulled out, thrusting in again with more power—in and out, in and out, each stroke gaining in intensity and passion like waves of heat on a midsummer's day.  
  
They moved together, two naked forms intertwined in the sunlight, driving, plunging, kissing, caressing, and thrusting with heated desperation. The pace of the dance escalated into reckless abandon, and as Ranma felt Akane's muscles tighten convulsively around his cock, he released his control. Without even thinking, he leaned forward to kiss the nape of her neck, opening his mouth as he did so to strike his unsuspecting victim… and hesitated at that last, vital instant. The orgasm hit them both like the crash of a wave, and they cried out together—  
  
"RANMA, YOU HENTAI!" bellowed a furious masculine voice from the window, and Ranma, mind and body still locked in the hazy throes of the orgasm and fighting the need to taste blood, was jolted rudely into reality again by—you guessed it—a splash of icy cold water.  
  
  
  
Please we, both the authors, are begging you for reviews. We live off of reviews.  
  
---------It also helps with the depression..... V_V R 'n R!! 


	6. The Vampires’ Duel

The shapely redhead yelped from the shock of icy water, feeling dismayed and disoriented as she sometimes did when the transformation caught her off- guard as it had now.  
  
Disappointment was undeniable; she'd been so close to finishing the job! One more moment and her prey would have been caught completely unaware of the threat posed to her mortality. Ranma had used this method of obtaining meals in the past and it had never failed. Why, a second more, and she would've made it to the vein-  
  
Ranma-chan stopped herself, frozen to the spot by more than the icy water which had begun to evaporate from her and Akane's bodies. The very idea of what she had almost done! The hostile claws of fear hooked themselves deep into her stomach as she realized what she had been inches away from doing- who she had been inches away from preying on!  
  
She looked down at Akane, who at the moment was propped up on one hand and who held the partially-drenched sheet clutched to her chest in the other. She kept glancing up behind Ranma-chan, as if unsure of which should worry her more, the look on Ranma's face or the man standing in the windowsill. Ranma-chan, horrified with herself, didn't notice and began stammering. "Akane-I don't think-I can't trust myself-"  
  
"Damn right you can't!" growled a voice from the open window.  
  
Ranma-chan twisted to see a silhouetted figure perched on the windowsill holding an empty bucket. His arms were crossed and his entire body was shaking in anger. "How DARE you go back on your word? How DARE you, Ranma?"  
  
With that menacing remark, the figure dropped down the seven feet or so to the woven mats as gracefully as if he'd slid down one of the rays of light which were lancing through the swirling dust of the room. The bucket, tossed negligently into a corner, echoed hollowly through the rising tension of the room.  
  
Anger flared up in Ranma-chan like a lit match dropped in sake. She shifted from the bed, muscles taut despite their recent rigorous exercise. She was dripping wet, and completely naked as she approached her assailant, but this did not dampen the smooth, liquid confidence with which she moved. "Ryoga," she said, "do you honestly think I would be stupid enough, heartless enough-desperate enough to do that?"  
  
"Ryoga?" Akane's murmur of surprise seemed to fall unheard in the tension of the room. Confused, she clutched the wet sheet tighter around her nudity and tried again, "Ryoga, why'd you do tha-" Her voice trailed off as she noticed that neither Ryoga nor Ranma-chan had broken the silent staring contest.  
  
"Honestly, Ranma?" Ryoga fumed, glaring a moment more at Ranma-chan, and took the few steps up to the mattress where Akane lay. He settled down into a crouch before her, and reached out to dab at her neck. She hissed a little, pulling away, and he returned to hold the incriminating evidence in Ranma-chan's face. "Yes, I do think you are stupid enough to go back on your word."  
  
Ranma-chan paled at the sight of the blood smeared across Ryoga's fingertip. Her own pulse beat more rapidly in her ears, clamoring at the sight of the tiny crimson stain. His whole body screamed at him, yearning for just a taste, just a quick taste of the coppery flavor, undoubtedly still warm to the touch-unlike the last time he'd feasted at the blood bank where the blood had been cold and lifeless.  
  
'Control yourself!' came the cry from the human side of Ranma-chan's frantically whirling mind. A shiver passed through her, a series of unreadable emotions flew across her beautiful features and she looked away, clenching and unclenching her fists.  
  
Akane felt at her collar, where the smooth skin of her neck met the well- toned shape of her shoulder muscles. She was alarmed to find a little nick there, a tiny drop of blood welling up dark and red. What had happened.? She tried to recall the scene into her memory, but it was all clouded over with the passions of the moment. There was that last moment before the orgasm, where she'd felt something touch her skin, but she hadn't taken much notice of it at the time.  
  
Well, she took notice of it now. "Ranma? Ranma, this doesn't mean that." She looked up at her lover, horrified by what had just occurred to her. Would she, too, become a vampire and live out all eternity under the curse that haunted Ranma's life? Fear settled like a lump of coldness into the pit of her stomach.  
  
But it was Ryoga who answered her. He was shaking under the effort of controlling his own impulses, and his voice quavered as he stared intently at his own fingertip. "The bite isn't deep enough to have a lasting effect, dear Akane. He did not taste your blood, so you were not harmed." Akane felt a chill, watching Ryoga's odd behavior (Was it possible he was a vampire as well? No, it couldn't be...) To think that such a small amount of her own blood could have such an effect on Ranma-chan! She grew even more alarmed at the thought of how close she had come to being cursed with a similar fate-at the hands of one whom she loved, no less.  
  
"I didn't mean to, Ryoga-you know I didn't-" Ranma-chan had found her voice finally, even if it was trembling a bit. 'Damn these female hormones', she thought privately. 'Get a grip on yourself!' "I let my guard down for a moment, just a moment. I didn't see it coming. I thought it was safe, because. because."  
  
"Because of what?" barked Ryoga, crossing his arms. "You swore, man, we both did. An oath, and you nearly threw it away! I want to know what could have prompted you to come so close to dissolving that oath."  
  
Ranma-chan could clearly recall the night- had it really been years ago? It didn't seem possible- that he and Ryoga had taken the oath. The night itself hadn't been of any importance. He was sorry to admit that neither had his victim. He couldn't even remember the girl's face, and it hadn't been that long ago, really. Ranma had attacked from above, that much he could remember through the hazy memory of the vampire's animal-like hunger. He had attacked, and fed until the victim's face glowed a bloodless white in the light from the stars. As always, following the feeding, the vampire had sat back in a daze as human consciousness returned.  
  
That was how Ryoga had found him, (completely by chance, in his usual style) and subsequently panicked. Afraid it was his beloved Akane lying cold and dead in front of Ranma, Ryoga had threatened his life. A short, fierce battle had ensued, until Ryoga discovered that it was in fact not Akane's corpse lying half-forgotten on the ground. At that point, the accused vampire had demanded an explanation; when Ryoga stuttered it out, Ranma found himself just as horrified by the resemblance. The two, shaken to the bone, took a solemn oath-there under those cold, distant stars, next to the cold, lifeless body-that neither would taste Akane's blood, upon pain of death.  
  
"Ranma? Ranma, what is he talking about-I don't understand-" Akane's voice broke into Ranma-chan's reverie. She didn't know how to answer her beloved.  
  
"Akane, it's not what you think-"  
  
"Answer me, Ranma!" interrupted Ryoga, who was growing visibly more agitated. "What gave you the right to throw away a vow of honor like that?"  
  
"It was the nightshade!" confessed Ranma-chan heatedly, wishing he could defend himself. "We got it from Dr. Tofu. Extract of Nightshade. It was supposed to help with the hunger. I thought it would be enough, but before I knew what I was doing, the need was upon me again."  
  
"Fool," spat Ryoga1. "You should know better than to trust something created by human hands-they could never know the depths of a vampire's bloodlust."  
  
"Don't call me a fool!" Ranma-chan roared, her anger returning with newfound strength. "If it weren't for me-"  
  
"What is going on here?" Akane interrupted again, confused as she looked back and forth between the two fighters, who looked about as tense as taut bowstrings, and as ready to fire as any arrow she'd ever seen. "Ryoga, I don't understand-when did you find out?"  
  
"Find out?" he snorted, smiling bitterly. "I 'found out' the same day I first met the girl chasing the panda through the Chinese bamboo forest. Ranma made me who I am today. I-" he paused, shivering involuntarily from the memory, "I was his first victim."  
  
Akane drew back, wide-eyed. "Then you're a. a vampire, too?"  
  
"Thanks to Ranma, over there, I am." He leaned down to face Akane again (she had forgotten her lack of apparel for the moment, and he quite enjoyed the view this position afforded him). "And just think, a moment more, and you would have suffered the same fate from the same hands.or should I say fangs?"  
  
"I didn't mean it!" growled Ranma-chan, incensed at the accusation, however true it might be. "I would never, ever purposefully harm her! Damn it, Ryoga, I love her!"  
  
With that, Ranma-chan took a running leap and planted a high kick squarely in Ryoga's chest, propelling him into the opposite wall, which splintered and gave slightly under the force. He slid down, landing on his feet, and whirled to aim a quick series of punches at Ranma-chan's exposed torso. She blocked, dodged, and twisted to avoid them, in the process managing to land one fist up the side of Ryoga's head that sent him reeling backwards for a moment.  
  
Finding the opening she wanted, Ranma-chan dropped to a crouching position, swinging her leg around in a low kick to knock Ryoga's feet from under him, but her opponent reacted quickly. He skipped over the kick, whirling to deliver one of his own, which the redhead then ducked. S he leapt to her feet, dodging a punch or two, feinting to the right, then the left, and finally slamming her fist up alongside Ryoga's ribcage, knocking the wind out of him. Wheezing for only an instant, he recovered unbelievably quickly.  
  
The two circled each other a little, exchanging punch for punch and matching blow for blow. Ranma-chan did not use the full force available to her with each punch; instead she carefully measured the power behind her blows, saving a little extra for later, and she suspected Ryoga of doing the same. Watching them, Akane realized why the two were always so much further ahead of everyone else, skill-wise in the fighter's arena; it must have something to do with loosing their mortality. Perhaps, she wondered, wincing as Ranma barely evaded a powerful kick, perhaps being a vampire comes with certain advantages. At times the two moved with such supernatural speed that their fists blurred and she could no longer follow the movements of their feet.  
  
Ranma-chan settled neatly into the rhythm of the fight; this was comfortable to her, this was familiar. This she knew how to handle. The rush of adrenaline, the heightened senses, all were part of her life-long training. Exhilaration built in her as the fight wore on. She and Ryoga danced around the room, moving from blow to kick, to block, to punch, to jab, to kick again as though it was a highly choreographed combat sequence. And she hadn't even broken a sweat yet!  
  
She halfway considered leaping from the window to draw Ryoga out and perhaps tire him, but it wouldn't be easy, and it probably wouldn't be worth the attention her nudity would attract. If only she could pause to pull on some clothes! Flipping backwards out of her opponent's way, she spotted her black silk pants, crumpled at the foot of the bed where they'd been tossed the night before. 'Or maybe just pants, and then find a way to get some hot water.'  
  
This gave her an idea, though, as she whirled and dodged, punched and kicked. If she could just maneuver Ryoga into some cold water.. 'But, no, not in front of Akane.' He'd promised long ago not to expose Ryoga, and despite what the lout had just accused him of (however rightly), Ranma was one who liked to keep his promises.  
  
Ranma-chan sidestepped to avoid a high kick aimed at her torso, but managed to forget which body she occupied, and so didn't move far enough out of the way. Had she been a strapping, flat-chested young man, the kick would have missed her by inches. Unfortunately, with the extra three inches or so provided to her by her feminine body, she took the hit across her exposed breasts, and staggered back from the revelation of pain. Blinking back the vampire-tears that welled up in the corner of her eyes from the unexpected tenderness, she was unable to see the first bandana that whizzed past her face.  
  
"Ranma!" cried Akane, too late to alert the off-balance fighter. This unanticipated support would have caught her off guard as well ('I thought Akane would hate me!'), but she was already ducking another razor-sharp bandana and had no time to give it any more thought. Before she could blink, the air seemed full of yellow and black bandanas, flying every which- way like a swarm of bees.  
  
"Chestnuts Roasting Over an Open Fire!" shouted the pig-tailed girl, and her hands moved into a whirling blur of motion as each bandana was snatched from the air. Before long, the barrage of airborne razors stopped, and the two adversaries faced each other. Ryoga stood, sweating mildly, and glaring knives and daggers at Ranma-chan, who grinned wolfishly back, her hands full of bandanas yet somehow unscathed.  
  
Ryoga's hair, without the bandanas to support it, draped down over his eyes. He shook it angrily out of the way, and launched forward, fists flying.  
  
Without a second thought, Ranma-chan leapt above her assailant, balancing neatly on the wooden rafters overhead. With a roar, Ryoga joined him, landing just out of arm's reach on the foot-wide beam. Ranma-chan was ready for him, though. As he was recovering his balance from the jump, she planted a kick in Ryoga's abdomen directly below his ribcage, so his wind would be knocked from him again. This time, Ranma-chan didn't hold back, and gave it every ounce of strength available. Her opponent doubled over, wheezing in pain.  
  
Three things happened, then, in the same instant. The first was that Ranma- chan dropped her weight to her hands, swinging her body around the rafter like a gymnast so she could knock Ryoga's feet from under him. The second was that Akane shouted something to the effect of "Ranma, look out!" which neither Ranma-chan nor Ryoga ever heard. Thirdly, Ryoga's fingers curled around his second piece of razor-sharp apparel, his belt. Straightening his body with an effort, Ryoga whipped it out to lash at Ranma-chan.  
  
The rod-like razor-sharp belt missed its target by inches, whizzing by harmlessly, but, unfortunately for Ryoga, Ranma-chan did not miss hers. Tangled impossibly as Ryoga tried to reach for the rafter again, the two fell like dead weights to land on the floor with a thud.  
  
The fight went downhill from there, the two assailants rolling on the floor, cursing and tearing at each other like rabid dogs.  
  
Neither noticed that the blade-like belt had indeed found a final resting place.  
  
Akane's last thought, before she blacked out from the loss of blood, was one of irony-it was always the belt that got her. She could recall a day, years ago, during Ranma and Ryoga's first fight when the thing had sliced off her beautiful long hair. If her throat hadn't been sliced open so inconveniently, she might have sighed. It was always the belt. The room lurched around her, and everything faded to darkness.  
  
TBC? 


	7. The Eternal Kiss

"You insensitive jerk! Don't you--ugh--don't you care for her at all?"  
  
"Of course I do--umph--you bastard!"  
  
"You don't deserve her--"  
  
"Don't say that!"  
  
Sunlight, mottled by cherry trees just outside, filtered in through the open window to fall on two forms rolling on the floor, locked in combat. Both experienced martial artists, they had thrown finesse and the dexterity of lifelong training to the wind and were now behaving much like a nature documentary gone wrong. They bit, they growled, they clawed, and they grunted. The only things distinguishing them from a pair of hissing, spitting tomcats were the lack of tails and the occasional hurled insult or curse.  
  
"Hey, ya jerk! That was my hair!"  
  
"Stop acting like such a girl--oof!"  
  
"I've told you before--don't ever call me a girl, baka!"  
  
"Busu!"  
  
"Inoshishi!"  
  
"Onabe!"  
  
"Achike!"  
  
Ranma-chan was infuriated. There were no two ways about it; she was livid, and Ryoga was going to pay. Not even really aware of what they were fighting about anymore, she punched and clawed her opponent savagely, wishing herself back in her male form. As a female, close battles like this (if it could be called a battle) were dangerous for those with frail bodies. Roaring as Ranma-chan violently wrenched her left arm back, an enraged Ryoga seized the redhead's throat and gripped it as hard as he could.  
  
They continued to roll across the woven mats, fighting desperately, with Ranma-chan managing to gasp in a breath of air only once. She fought, struggled, wriggled, and strained from the steel-like grasp as instinct began to take over. 'Air!' she thought hopelessly, 'Damn you, Ryoga! I need air.' Her vision began to blur--she clawed at his wrists--but she could still see Ryoga's eyes. They were insanely jealous, but the desperation in their depths froze Ranma-chan's heart. "I'm sorry." they seemed to say.  
  
'I need to do something,' Ranma-chan thought dizzily, her thinking process slowed to the here-and-now. 'I can't just give up like this. it's not right.'  
  
Her eyes widened for a moment, a ridiculous grin twisting her features as she realized the one advantage she had over Ryoga--and with the last bit of energy she possessed, Ranma-chan kneed Ryoga in the groin. He went down like a felled tree, and the redhead rolled away, kneeling into something warm and wet to gasp and sputter for air, blessed, blessed air.  
  
She looked down, seeing her own nude self reflected in a pool of red, and didn't quite comprehend what she was looking at. Her breath caught as she lifted her hand up to look at it--the small, feminine palm was covered in crimson liquid. She sniffed cautiously at it, her subconscious working overtime. She felt her heart sink for an instant. 'No, no--It was blood--'  
  
Without thinking, Ranma-chan clamped down on the monster lurking beneath the surface of her mind. She could not, would not let the vampire take over. Not yet, not until she absolutely had to. Almost seconds later, as she continued to stare stupidly at the blood on her hand, she felt the murderous instincts begin fighting her own mind. 'Blood!' the vampire within her cried, 'BLOOD!'  
  
Shaking her head a bit, she looked up and froze at what she saw there.  
  
Akane--or rather Akane's body--lay sprawled across the mattress sheets. Blood was everywhere, marring her perfect skin, staining her perfect white hands. A strangled cry left Ranma-chan's lips and she rushed to her beloved's side.  
  
"Akane! Akane, wake up." She reached out to the prone figure--a part of her shocked mind recalling a scene a few hours earlier when she had posed in front of him before their lovemaking--but snatched the hand back when she saw the damage of the wound where the belt had grazed her. It lay nearby, now limp and blood stained. Revolted at what her own vampire instincts were practically screaming at her to do, Ranma-chan looked away. It was like trying to cage a great white shark with your bare hands--the mere sight or smell of blood sent the monster into a killing rampage, and it was all Ranma-chan could do to contain herself.  
  
Ryoga appeared suddenly at Ranma-chan's side, injuries forgotten, eyes wide and mouth agape. He fell to his knees, shaking, yet apparently unable to look away. Ranma-chan barely noticed him; in fact, her mind seemed to have ground to a halt. All she could think was, 'Not Akane, not Akane!'  
  
As the two watched, the moment stretching impossibly long into the painful infinity of their own private Hell, the figure on the bed twitched and turned, coughing slightly. More blood trickled from her mouth.  
  
"She's still alive!" Ranma-chan blurted, disbelieving. 'Something needs to be done! We have to do something.' Her mind was working rapidly now.  
  
"Ryoga!" She had to grab him by the collar before he responded at all. "Ryoga, go get some help! Find a doctor, something, anything! Hurry!"  
  
The fight long since forgotten, Ryoga leapt up and raced from the room. Ranma-chan turned back to Akane.  
  
She moved to the side of the mattress, longing to take her beloved up in her arms, to kiss her all over and tell her it would be all right, that she was safe. But Ranma-chan knew it would be lying, because even as she sat there on the verge of tears, she was weathering an internal storm, fighting the vampire that sought only blood. Akane, lying there, helpless as a newborn babe, was no safer this moment than she had been when Ranma had been foolish enough to think the Nightshade would make him human. He had almost attacked her then. What dangers did she pose to her love now? Ranma- chan shivered, fighting for control, and hating herself for her lack of it.  
  
Feeling helpless, she hovered over Akane's face, grasping her right hand. The glassy eyes moved, locked on her own. Tears formed, and her lips twitched as if to speak.  
  
"Akane, no--don't speak. Just wait, just wait." Words tumbled from Ranma- chan's mouth, and she found she couldn't stop them. "Ryoga's gone to get a doctor, we'll get you some help. Just don't give up. You'll--you'll be fine!" Her voice broke here, because she knew in her heart that Akane would never be fine ever again. Somehow, Akane managed to shake her head, rocking it sadly from side to side. "No," she mouthed. She knew, too.  
  
"Akane, please hang on. We can save you." Ranma-chan felt the tears of complete despondency, complete hopelessness well up. Suddenly tired of fighting everything, Ranma-chan let them trickle red rivulets down her cheek. She sobbed quietly into her unclothed shoulder, gripping Akane's limp hand like a lifeline.  
  
The scarlet vampire tears--signs of deep sadness, deeper than the reaches of any human heart--fell onto Akane's breast, running down her shoulder to pool with her own blood. She had lost so much.  
  
Akane's fingers clenched her hand spasmodically and she reached up to touch the redhead's fear-struck, tear-streaked face. Catching her breath, Ranma- chan let herself be drawn down until their faces were barely a kiss apart. Akane was clearly gathering her strength--she was shaking uncontrollably, and her blue-black hair dangled tiny ripples in the blood that had pooled in the wrinkles of her pillow. Ranma-chan, her mouth inches from the crimson liquid, forced down the vampire's bloodlust with a valiant effort. 'Just one taste!' it cried, but she forced the thought away.  
  
Akane gasped in air, eyes full of pain, and whispered hoarsely, "Give in-- Ranma, I love you, but." Akane's body interrupted her with a wracking coughing fit, blood slipping down the corner of her mouth again.  
  
Ranma-chan's heart broke all over again, holding her there, watching her love die in her arms. She couldn't stand to let her slip away like this, but she couldn't bring herself to damn her to the Hell she shared with Ryoga. Akane gasped again, her voice fluttering like a feather against his ear. "I need.I need you to give in, Ranma."  
  
Ranma-chan stared down at Akane, who had fallen limp into her arms, her head lolling back like a rag doll's, her skin cold and clammy as death. 'Did she know what she asked? This was Akane, the same Akane she had seen in the nude scarcely five minutes after meeting her, the same Akane she had argued with, fought with, walked to school with, the same Akane who had saved her life countless times, and the same Akane she had saved countless times. This was the Akane she had confessed her love to, only a few nights before. Was their love to be so short?'  
  
Ranma-chan hugged Akane's wilting body close against her own. Sunlight from the open window traced a line of creamy gold from Akane's forehead, down the profile of her cheek and chin, down over her neck and the ruby redness wrapping itself like an exotic necklace around her throat, following the curve of her skin over her collarbone--broken once last year in a training session--down past a small origin-less scar, into the soft rising fullness of her bosom, where her skin met her lover's embrace lovingly and lifelessly. They rocked back and forth. The sunlight seemed to rock with them. 'Did she know what she asked?'  
  
"Akane, Akane, oh, my Akane." Ranma-chan began to feel the exhaustion of the day's trials weighing down on her, began to feel the pressure of the vampire's bloodlust screaming at her, began to feel the stab of the knife called pain, began to wonder if she would ever feel Akane return her embrace again. Would she just slip away? "I cannot curse you to this life. this unloving life. How could you ask this of me? To banish you to my Hell?"  
  
A bitter, saddened voice greeted him from the doorway. "At least you would be together in Hell, Ranma. At least she would be happy with you."  
  
Ranma-chan's arms tightened protectively around her beloved as she craned her neck to see the doorway. Ryoga stood there, with Dr. Tofu, black bag and steaming teapot in hand, waiting at his side.  
  
An overwhelming sense of relief flooded through Ranma-chan as the good doctor rushed to her side to gently examine the unconscious Akane. Setting his bag and the pot down by his side, he gently pulled her from Ranma- chan's shoulder with strong, capable hands, and cradled her head in the crook of his arm. Blood smeared his white jacket; a deep frown smeared his usually jovial features.  
  
"Will she live? Can you heal her?" Ranma-chan was desperate, tear-streaked, exhausted, nearly insane with her vampire-instincts, and naked. But none of that mattered at all. "Will she make it?"  
  
Dr. Tofu's voice was profoundly sad as he looked up. "I'm sorry, Ranma."  
  
Ranma-chan's face hardened then, resolve written across her features. She reached over to the end of the bed, removing the pair of black silk pants she knew rested there, and pulled them on.  
  
"Could you hand me the teapot?" she asked Dr. Tofu. He appeared confused. "I want. I need to be my own self again for this." Understanding, the doctor silently freed up a hand from the young woman to hand over the kettle.  
  
The water, which she poured over her own head, wasn't scorching, but was pleasantly warm enough to rejuvenate Ranma slightly. He didn't bother trying to wash off any of the blood on his hands, but instead set the kettle back down and knelt next to Akane.  
  
Seeing her there, his heart twisted horribly. To damn his only love to a life like this. He looked up at Dr. Tofu, into Ryoga's face.  
  
"You have to, Ranma," Ryoga said, looking away, his arms crossed and his hands in fists. Blood drenched his front and smeared itself across his cheek. He was obviously having a hard time denying his own instincts in the midst of this crimson bloodbath.  
  
'Akane.'  
  
He sobbed once, knowing what he had to do, and hating himself for it. Ryoga had been right. At least they would be together.  
  
'Blood,' cried the ever-present vampire impulses, banging under his willpower like a battering ram. 'Blood! Blood! Blood!' They were wearing his resolve down with each blow, like they always did, until he was reduced to a gibbering wreck, helpless against the monster that inevitably rose up within him. 'Blood! Blood! Blood!' And he was just supposed to give in to them? To open up the doors of his willpower wide and plunge himself into that horrible dark tunnel of hunger willingly?  
  
Akane's heart still beat within her, although blood continued to seep from her fatal wound. He could feel it there. beating, pulsating like a beacon... every place her body contacted his was a palpable pulse, the sign of the life he knew he had to take.  
  
Two things can happen when a vampire makes his kill. If he takes a mere sip, a tiny taste, then the victim's blood will change forever, poisoned by the fangs of an immortal monster. This is how vampires are made; sometimes it happens by accident, but it is very rare because once a vampire begins to drink from it's victim's veins, he finds it very, very difficult to restrain himself. If he continues to drink, effectively drying up the body, then no new vampire will emerge and the victim, though poisoned, will die from the total and complete loss of blood.  
  
"Ryoga? I need you to restrain me--If... if I can't break myself from it. I need you to restrain me. Dr. Tofu, I think it best you stay clear, just in case." Ryoga nodded understandingly and came closer, kneeling nearby. Dr. Tofu, a look of concern upon his face, went to stand near the window. 'Blood! Blood! Blood!' cried the vampire-instincts at the back of his mind. It was like a drumbeat now, as wild as his own pulse, a battering ram to beat down his resolve. 'Blood! Blood! Blood!'  
  
'Akane.'  
  
Ranma was so tired. Physically tired, emotionally tired, mentally tired. He gazed down at his beloved cradled in his arms for one last time.  
  
And surrendered to the monster.  
  
Ranma felt himself fracture like a piece of glass. In one reality, he was seated in the quiet room with a young, vulnerable, female victim in his arms. In another reality, he was tumbling, tumbling into a long dark tunnel of hunger, of bloodlust and of wanting. He felt lost, disoriented and alone. Horribly, horribly alone. Thousands of realities whirled around him until he thought there were so many selves that he might be driven mad. And yet he still felt himself falling. Alone.  
  
'Focus! Akane.. I'm so sorry.'  
  
He bent down as if to kiss her. He felt his fangs lengthen slightly in anticipation, felt his blood rise, clamoring for companionship as he approached his prey. His fangs brushed her skin--prepared to strike--in seconds, he would have blood!  
  
One small part of him protested, rebelled, revolted against this horrible act. 'Not Akane! I will never taste Akane's blood!' It was the human part of Ranma, lost and twirling in the dark depths of himself. It was a very small part, but enough to make him hesitate.  
  
Her whole body seemed to convulse, then. She gasped, her mouth full of blood, her eyes wide and afraid. "Please," was all she whispered, shaking from the effort it took to even raise her head. Seeing the hesitation in the vampire's eyes, she rose up and kissed him, forcing her tongue into his mouth to ensure contact.  
  
Once the vampire felt the surge of blood enter his mouth, he reacted immediately. 'Blood! Blood! Blood!' his mind cried, and for once received an answer. Blood it received.  
  
Ranma had never felt a kill quite like this one. Usually he hid himself, ashamed and revolted, into a dark corner of his own mind to wait for it to be finished, for the monster's appetite to abate. He would let himself fall into the long dark tunnel, alone, alone--seemingly twisting and falling into infinity.  
  
But as he fell now, a lonely speck in a swirling void, he felt a presence reach out to him and embrace him in the darkness. There were no words in this place, but he felt her outpouring of love, trust, forgiveness and gratitude. She was an anchor in his own mind, a lifeline in the tempest of his own curse, now her curse, too. The storm raged on, but at least they were together.  
  
Ranma pulled away from his victim's lips, his fangs returning to normal length as he gazed quietly at the figure in his arms. She was the picture of serenity, he thought. There was even a smile on her face, as if she were in a peaceful slumber. Even now, as the poison took effect through her bloodstream, her wound began to seal itself. Her skin took on a warm healthy glow, and he could feel her heartbeat return to normal. She would remain this way for all eternity, he realized, cradling her head in his hands. She would learn the things he had to learn--about controlling the vampire within, concealing her unusual healing abilities from mortals, about handling and directing her new supernatural strength. Yet, she would not have to experience it alone. He would be there for her, to help her, to restrain her, if need be. 'No, she will not have to be alone,' he decided. 'I will always be there for you Akane,' Ranma whispered within his mind. 'Always...'  
  
Dr. Tofu and Ryoga closed the door as they left the room, allowing the window to remain open to circulate the air. Ranma gathered his beloved up in his hands, placing her on the side of the mattress that was relatively clean--she would be in a fragile state when she awoke from her transforming slumber in a few hours. Seeing blood on the sheets would not help. He gathered them up, pulling them gently from beneath the young woman. Wetting the corner of one with water from the teapot, he managed to clean up the worst of the blood on himself and his love.  
  
Finally, exhausted in every way possible, Ranma Saotome lay down on the mattress and embraced his love, his life, his everything. She stirred only briefly, burrowing into the safety of his arms. Within minutes, their bodies warmed by the cherry-tree filtered sunlight, the cursed young lovers were deeply asleep--at last, they were together.  
  
TBC? 


	8. Epilogue

Disclaimer: The following poem, unfortunately, is not mine. The following poem, unfortunately, has been reprinted without the permission of its author. Please don't sue, Mrs. Jong! Really, I love your stuff. I would be really embarrassed if my favorite poet sued me for copyright infringement. That would be the epitome of irony, wouldn't it? But enough! On with the epilogue!  
  
~~*~~  
  
They locked into each other Like brother & sister, Long-lost relations, Orphans divided by time.  
  
He bit her shoulder And entered her blood forever. She bit his tongue And changed the tone of his song.  
  
They walked together astonished Not to be lonely. They sought their lonelinesses Like lost dogs.  
  
But they were joined together By tongue & shoulder. His nightmares woke her; Her daydreams startled him.  
  
He fucked so hard He thought he'd climb back in her. She came so hard Her skin seemed to dissolve.  
  
She feared she had no yearning Left to write with. He feared she'd suck him dry And glide away.  
  
They spoke of all these things And locked together. She figured out The jigsaw of his heart.  
  
And he unscrambled her And placed the pieces With such precision Nothing came apart.  
  
--Erica Jong, 1977  
  
~~*~~  
  
It was many months later, during the dead of a particularly harsh Nerima winter, that they felt safe in returning. It was twilight, and the two youths, bundled needlessly against the cold, shared their reverie only with thick flurries of snowflakes. The trees scattered throughout the cemetery were as bare as frozen skeletons, and about as foreboding. The upright headstones seemed like wandering ghosts, motionless spirits locked in stone to wait out their eternity.  
  
The smaller of the two figures shivered, but not from the cold. She stared down at the two headstones before them, at the cold, false characters inscribed in stark blackness.  
  
"I wish it could have been different, Akane," said the taller figure, his breath and face lit in the dying light of the dusk. "But there was no way we could stay and continue our lives." He slipped his arm about her shoulders, though neither immortal actually needed the physical warmth.  
  
"I know, Ranma, I know." She said, turning to him, crimson tears filling her eyes. "Still, I wish we didn't have to do it to them--my father and my sisters, I mean. They must miss me horribly. I know I miss them." She chuckled suddenly, her breath puffing out evidence of her laughter in the chill air. She turned back to face her own grave, empty of her bones, though it was. "Can you imagine Nabiki running the dojo?"  
  
"She'll drag a profit from that place if it's the last thing she does, if I know your sister. At least Kasumi's there to keep an eye on her." He chuckled along with her, tilting her chin up to wipe her eyes. "Ryoga and Dr. Tofu know we're all right, Akane. Pops, too. There's no need to worry. We'll always have each other."  
  
He embraced her there in the deserted, snow-filled cemetery. Darkness was falling swiftly now, and fat snowflakes floated down from the sky to shower them in crystalline glory. She leaned into his arms, enjoying his scent. The past few months had been difficult at the best of times, but they had weathered all the trials presented by Akane's newfound abilities, and her newfound appetites. Together.  
  
She pulled away from his warmth, returning her gaze to the two solemn stones commemorating the lives of two youths who mysteriously vanished, several months past. Quietly, without unnecessary flair or eloquence, she wiped away the snow that had piled itself at the foot of her headstone, and left a single red rose in its place. She repeated the somber ritual at the base of Ranma's headstone, and, after a moment's hesitation, turned to leave.  
  
Hand in hand, the two youths disappeared without a trace into the night, swallowed up in the all-encompassing darkness. All that signified their fleeting presence were the two roses--awaiting discovery in the frosty nighttime air.  
  
Three months later, the Tendo residence received an unsigned postcard-- addressed in mysteriously familiar handwriting--depicting a cherry blossom festival in Kyoto. These anonymous greetings continued every spring for many years to come, illustrating hundreds of cherry blossom festivals across Japan. Always these cards brought tears to Genma's eyes, and for weeks or months after their arrival, Ryoga would disappear, saying he was searching for something. He never did find what he was searching for, though, and after a few years he disappeared himself when it became obvious that his own lack of aging was giving him unwanted attention.  
  
And every year, on the darkest night of winter, two roses, as red as blood, would find their way to the headstones of two long since dead teenagers-- teenagers who couldn't resist returning every year at least for one night to the place they had once called home. Always, they were careful never to be seen in public, and always they vanished without a trace into the frosty night air, hand in hand--together. 


End file.
